Have you ever felt like you just didn't fit in anywhere? Like you were born into this world alone, meant to live in it alone and to die the same way, alone? I have this feeling every day, the thoughts gnawing at me, slowly driving me insane. The cruel isolation of my abnormalities lurking in the shadows of my mind as I stare out my classroom window wondering what my life would have been like if I were normal. What if I was a normal girl with normal problems and a normal life? 
“Heh, pathetic right?” I thought as I stared at the hovering city outside with its perfect geometric and metromium alloyed buildings that gleam in the artificial sun. I glanced over at the girl beside me, Danielle Waters. She is tall, thin, annoying and a spoiled brat. Her short brown hair caresses her shoulders, brushing against her flawless caramel skin. She sits there bright-eyed, bushy tailed and happy in her crisp expensive panote jeans and flair shirt, with a hem that blazes like a true flame upon her skin, revealing the bright blue, orange and red hues of fire. Don't you just love the amount of money and holographic illusions that are put in today's fashion trends? "If you aren't ablaze then you are missing the craze" quoted from Cyrus the telecom himself, I scoff cynically at the very notion of "being ablaze" and a part of any "craze" that requires me to spend obscene amounts of money for fashion that is neither comfortable or provides a useful function, but I guess that's why I'm not "Queen Bee" around here. Hence my apparent disdain for Danielle. She sits there listening to the professor drone on about Pre-Terror America, probably contemplating what color to dye her hair or to paint her skin. Danielle is a prissy Blue Blood with attitude, and doesn’t know a damn thing about the world. “Why does she get the normal life, well as normal as it gets in Terridien, she doesn’t deserve it, any of it” I thought as I sit here dwelling in my bitterness, suddenly a wave of disappointment and anger washes over my body. 

“Kali Evans! Is there something you would like to share with the class?” Professor Thomas asked her voice laced in irritation.

“Crap” I whispered as blurred images of students rushed into my mind. Some people falling asleep, talking, or passing notes in her class. The flashes grew clearer, more detailed as Professor Thomas stalked closer to me. A boy curled up in his desk with a book resting on his face snoring obnoxiously loud, a girl, a slutty one at that, strewn across the lap of a well-muscled, broad shouldered jock as they devoured each other in a heated albeit gross make out session. Another image began to form in my mind, but not before an abrupt pain erupted from the base of my skull. My brain seemed to throb in agony as if it were trying to purge the invading emotions and memories from my mind. The throbbing pulsed continuously speeding up creating an unbearable ache in my now paralyzed muscles. The images slowly began to fade into indeterminable blobs of color and shapes as a deep darkness began to surround me.

“Miss. Evans! Miss.Evans!” I heard Professor Thomas call in the background, her voice echoing softly; the pain growing worse, drowning out her voice with its erratic pulsing. Ba-Bump, Ba-Bump Bump, Bump ,Bababa went the throbbing pain in my head almost as if it were morse code for :agony from hell. After that my entire body went numb, I felt weightless and void as though I were floating in lukewarm water. All sense of time and space was lost and eventually all sound was gone, my world on mute, I could no longer hear her or the gravel in a blender snoring that had  rang out in my mind seconds prior, only the echoing silence of limbo remained. 

********

    “Hey she’s waking up.” I heard Danielle’s irritating voice whisper. I opened my eyes only to see a white ceiling void of any flaws. I tried to sit up,but instantly regretted it as my headache returned with a vengeance, and made me dizzy.

“Lie down chile”the nurse said in a heavy southern accent,which is rare in these parts of Terridien. “ We don’t want a repeat of what happened earlier,do we?” I groaned lowly in both reluctance and understanding. I can’t believe I let it happen again.I let the memories take over completely is time. I thought I had control over this...this...thing. Maybe the emotions are getting stronger? Or am I become more susceptible to them? Are my powers getting stronger even without...no they can’t be not again! I scream out in my mind,which did not go over well as the pain coursed through me with white hot fury. “Shit that hurt” I mumble to myself as I jump down from the patient table onto my unexpectedly wobbly legs. I nearly fell face first onto the hard, unforgiving floor until I steadied myself against the table.Well I guess I should wait a while before trying to go home.
    It wasn’t until lunch that I decided to move,considering the fact I really didn’t want to go back to class today. I checked myself out of the nurse’s office and walked to the parking clots with my head held high. Students scurried out of my way, afraid to ruin their fragile reputations by making eye contact with me. 
“Look there she is” whispered a nerdy looking girl on my right.
“Yea I heard she is diseased and has been banned by the government to have physical contact with anybody and that even her parents have disowned her.” replied her little friend beside her.
“ If you are going to talk about someone behind their back, make sure they can’t turn around and kick your ass” I snarled at them as I continued toward the exit. Their faces freeze over in fear as they quivered under my heavy,angry gaze until they ran away from me to their next class. I refuse to be looked down upon even as students whispered and spread the venom of their gossip as I pass. This is no big deal I have always been such a social butterfly-- ok, ok more like social pariah,but that never bothered me as long as perverts,boppers and turds keep their hands to themselves and tricks, skanks and hoes leave me the - “Oomph” I grunt as some idiot bumps into me.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit ya”the boy said his eyes asking if I was ok. I give him the once over, taking notice of his flawless almond skin and his keen chocolate eyes before giving a  small nod. I turn away and go on about my business. I don’t have time for idiots that can’t even walk without hitting someone. When I reach the parking clot, a large cube that looks as if it is made out of clouds, hovers in air before me. It has hundreds of cars parked in a 100x100 square ft,which is pretty awesome. Though packing cars into a parking clot  is fun I’m not of the gravity defying blue bloods. Instead I have my ever dependable,precious motorcycle. I have a gorgeous 2009 motorcycle that sat ,cloaked by its camouflage setting, in the beautiful September sun. My bike is black with purple angel wings and feathers cascading behind them painted on the sides. The bike however is a bit outdated...let's say a couple of centuries worth,but who cares. I jump on my bike and ride down to the under layers of Terridien City. The shiny self repairing buildings floated over the “underworld” ,at least that's what the blue bloods call it. The underworld  is the old world that was built through the efforts of men, not machines. The underworld is comprised of old buildings that are falling apart,losing foundation and degrading into dust as plantion squatters live within their walls. I stopped by Neptue, a local restaurant (and I use that term loosely). Neptue isn’t exactly the cleanest place in the world but it serves cheap,decent food. I park my bike in a dark corner and turn on its camouflage setting. Then I walk into Neptue, which is basically an old hardware store  with dust floating in the air like a thick fog and the rusting smell of metal colliding with sweat and grime. The old pro-artificial life posters posted here and there along with half naked pictures of women that never cease to disturb me. I sit down at the bar, order my food and relax. As I wait, I revel in the peace of being surrounded with stable, single minded adults instead of my hormone crazed classmates that suffocate me on a day to day basis. My mind is at rest and I finally have time to breathe without being stifled with the lust of teenagers and the wet dreams that come with it, but that is short lived for Danielle Waters magically appears and ruins what little happiness I had left.

“Why are you here?” I grumble pissed that some blue blood would interrupt my solitude. “Yea what a great place for solitude a musty old shack littered with rough necks and thieves”. I scoff to myself. “Shouldn’t you be off shoppin’ wit Daddy?”

“Normally I would be but I’m curious as to why you are here Kali. Blue Bloods don’t associate with the plantion turds” she hissed her words stilling the air around us.

“That is none of your business,princess. Call for your blankie and tell Daddy to pick you up” I said coolly taking a long swig of orpon soda. Ugh she is so irksome. I don’t want to deal with a 24/7 Menstrual Bitch right now.

“Underworld trash, I go wherever I please.You on the on other hand are restricted to the city,are you not?” Danielle said with a sly,mischievous smile.

“You take pride in being the only 22 year old, in the fourth year class, huh?” my voice crackles setting fire to her dry threats like a match to a fuse. Her face plummets from her high horse riding smirk to an embarrassed, angry scowl. The people around us howling in laughter, many of them bellowing in deep condescending laughs at the soft, over-priviledged blue blood. 

“We can always count on blue bloods to make fools of themselves.” yells a masculine voice

“And Kali to help them!” added Demitri, the owner of Neptue, who likes to act as my father. Ugh that annoying ol’ man, but you can’t help but love ’em.

"I dont see why you waste your time at the Terridien Academy, you have no opportunities because you're a-

"SHUT UP" I seethed " Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Hyrsion whore because you don’t know what the fuck you're talking about" I snarl my body poised to kick her ass for almost mentioning my secret and not keeping her end of the bargain.

"ooohhh looks like I have struck a nerve. What? Don’t want Langston to find out?" She said as she circled my seat, a knowing smirk plastered on her face.

"Waaah? Who is Langston?" I ask completely thrown off by her random insinuation.

"Don’t play coy with me. You know who Langston is, you and him had a nice little convo." Her voice growled possessively as her teeth grind in irritation.

" You think THAT was a conversation!" I yell my eyes watering as I laugh, my gut nearly busting at the thought.

"Uugggh" she hisses as she turns on her heels and maneuvers through an incoming group of hungry, smudged faces that contrast against her polished skin. "I should have known he wouldn’t be into you"

"So that’s why shae followed me down here. That Langston guy must be some rich, arrogant bastard if she is interested enough in him to interrogate me while she visits her master in the underworld." I thought to myself as I take a bite out of my cold cut, an old style sandwich from back in the day. Now all of the food had to be made and processed by the Terridian government. All of the food has an exact calorie count and fat content that must be followed to the hundredth of a percentage. Any food that doesn’t pass the tests is sold to the underworlders by crooked soldiers that want to make a profit off of the food on the incineration list. Pounds of meat, bread, dairy and produce are sold every day many of them with deforming hormones lacing every morsel. Its amazing that after a thousand years society still hasn’t learned that true agriculture is best for everyone but the government only wants do one thing, make money. The economy is the only thing that matters now days, which is why Blue Bloods and their luxuries are top priority for the government. Blue Bloods spend money on whatever they want so the government makes sure they get what they want even if it means throwing the rest of the world into turmoil. Ever since the Terror the government changed drastically instead of diplomacy and democratic decisions we are overwhelmed with laws and autocracy. And as much as I hate to admit it my parents were the cause of it all and I a consequential result of their passions and theories.

“And what’s got your panties in a knot?” asked Demitri interrupting my self loathing thoughts. His thick burly tree trunk like arm draping over my shoulder as he turns me around to face him. “You have that look on your face again” he said his features falling into a mass of concern and anxiousness.
“And what look is that, Demi?” i said with a smirk plastered on my face hoping that my smirk would make him forget about busting me. But from the stern quit-the-bullshit look on his face it sooo did not work.
“ Kali” he sighed “Why do you try to hide  what’s going on in that devious little brain of yours from me? You know that I care about what happens to you even if the world doesn't, even if you don’t. I don’t know why you hide here in the underworld but you are young and should live your life as such. Go shopping with friends, go flying hover cars ,hell go find you a beau I promise I won’t beat him up too bad.” he chuckled his expression bright with love and worry twinkling behind his eyes. His pie shaped face glowed as he laughed and his jovial emotions seep into me. Happy images of pre-terror Christmas and summer vacations run through my mind. Beach sun warms my skin as I inhale the salty freshness of the sea. “KALI!” yelled Demi ripping me away from his memories violently. I nearly fall over with the wind knocked out of me. “You said you could control it!” he hissed at me.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-I jusst-I don’t know what happened! I-” I stuttered my heart thrumming in my ears as it threatens to leap out of my throat. 
“No,no it’s alright. I’m sorry, I overreacted. I just don’t like you going through my memories like that. What did you see anyway?” Dimitri asked interrupting my anxiety attack.
“They were good memories about Christmas and the beach. Just how old are you Demi?” I asked with a cheeky smile knowing that beaches had long since been over ran with oil, hormones, trash and rotting bodies from the times of of the Terror and beyond .
“I’ll be 3,713 years old next Sunday.” He grinned “Are you going to get me any presents?”
“No, of course not. What does an old trend like you need with presents?” I said rolling my eyes at his ridiculous question. I mean what can a person get for a Imort that has almost four millennia behind him? I hate to say it but there is absolutely nothing I could do for Demi even if he is the most important person to me. Sigh, I’m pathetic and I know it I can’t even control myself around him and that causes him...discomfort to say the least.“Yo, I’m out” I said pushing my now empty plate of food away from me.
“Kali you never answered my question. What’s going on with you?” Demi asked gently grabbing onto the sleeve of my shirt with careful precision. 
“Nothing.” I said my voice hollow and stagnant as I rush to the exit and head home.
“Kali” He whispers his voice carrying all his inner anxiousness onto my already heavy heart. 
I should have been in control. I should have felt something change. Maybe I knew...Maybe I knew that it was about to happen and just couldn't resist the temptation of joy. I needed to feel the happiness seep from his pores and into my soul. I needed for each second of happiness to settle into my destitute heart and to warm my frigid flesh like a ray of sunlight on a cool day. Happiness so true and just as warm as real sunlight , not the artificial night light provided by the government. I needed to feel alive again even if I wasn't experiencing my own happiness at least I felt something other than the murky darkness of envy, rage and bitterness that seems to plague the world around me. 
I hop on my motorcycle and head to my place in the northern quadrant of the underworld. As I ride through it, I feel nothing but the pain, grief and rage of every squatter within a 25 foot radius. Images of broken bodies that have been weathered down by the daily costs of living, like searching for hours for food with substance or scraping up scrap metal in order to get one orpon soda to share between a family of five,until nothing is left but frail bones, empty stomachs and sunken faces. I see images of crying mothers as they hold their children, who have blank, yellowed eyes with frozen lungs and frozen hearts in buildings that have nothing but steel frames and broken windows to give them shelter. Clips of men with the blood of their families on their hands and the darkness of demons behind their eyes and possessing their souls as what's left of their families whimper in the molded, half eaten dry wall of an old office building played in my mind's eye. Each image causing knots to twist in my stomach, my body wrought with pain, nausea and dizziness, as I force myself to ride on trying to repel anymore memories that may come my way. 
But I inevitably fail. The overpowering emotions of depression and anger crash into me like a tsunami on an unsuspecting town: quickly, painfully and mercilessly. My mind flooded with frames of murder, prostitution, and a sea of rotting dead bodies called The Morgue played through my mind as if someone had press fast forward. I couldn't take much more as the screaming began, the screaming always happened, always. Murderous screams, fearful screams filled with desperation and pure unadulterated pain that seem to come from the very soul of whoever produced such a sound. I could feel my stomach churning even more as the sounds or beatings resounded in the background and children began to run and escape, but one child was not so lucky. She had to be no older than five with a terrible limp that hindered her mobility to the speed of molasses in winter time. She could not escape before she taken in an alley and the one thing no girl her age should have taken was roughly seized. Her screams were the last I heard before the white hot pain from earlier today surged through my skull and with it more images continue to flow into my mind. My body is on autopilot, my vision is blurry but I know I am almost home. It's getting harder to breathe, I can feel my heart thumping in my chest as my blood desperately searches for oxygen that I just can't find right now. The pressure in my head is becoming unbearable but I know it's almost over, when breathing becomes a little easier and my muscles begin to relax. 
"I just have to make it to the edge. I just have to make it home. " I whisper to myself, as I start to see my apartment in the distance. The closer I got to my apartment the less images I saw, the less voices I heard and the less pain I felt. But I guess that would be possible considering hardly anyone lives in this part of the city for fear that the radiation would kill them faster than the government would. Here, at "the edge of the world " as plantions call it, I can have peace of mind well as much peace you can have in this God forsaken world we live in . I park my bike inside a room on the first floor of the the complex and turn on the camouflage. You can never be too careful especially if you have a vehicle that works. As soon as I stand up the dizziness and nausea come back with a vengeance and I stumble to the bathroom and throw up everything I have eaten in the past few hours, but apparently that wasn't enough to fill my misery quota for the day because I continued to hack until specks of blood could be see on the yellowed lid of the toilet. My throat was raw and the rest of me was completely disoriented by the sudden movement my purge caused. I hate throwing up and I hate the acidic, metallic taste of blood it leaves in my mouth every day. I wipe my mouth on a nearby napkin and trudge up my rough, eaten through stairs to my bedroom. My room is bare with its cold, mildewed walls crumbling at every corner. The Bare metal piping beginning to show through the holes in the wall reminding me just how old this place is, not too many places have metal piping anymore. Hell most places are completely made of one type of composite or another, but my place is completely old school,rusted pipes and all. 
The floor is just about in the same condition, worn down, with nails sticking up waiting to tear some skin from an unsuspecting victim,but within this pitiful excuse for an abode is a bed. One of the only things in this life that brings a smile to my face. No, it's not much with its hundreds of holes littering the mattress and miscellaneous springs sprouting from every angle but it's definitely better than a nail ridden floor covered in rat shit. I slowly make my way to my bed, my head still pulsating after the ride home. As soon as my tired body hits the mattress I could feel myself relax and go numb. I don't know how much more I can take of this. I dont know if I can continue to play the hand I have been dealt in this life, but I know that if I don’t then they will just keep trying. Then my burden, my pain will only be passed from me to the next one and so on until not only am I destroyed but humanity, meaning any living rational being as a whole.

Thump, thump, thump went my combat boots on the cold, barren side walk. Everywhere I turned there was nothing but darkness. An inky, black darkness that had no beginning or end, shadows oozing onto everything around me threatening to swallow me whole. But it is not the darkness I fear, but the very thing that causes it. The epicenter of the shadows is darker than black almost as if a black hole had opened up in the middle of them .  In an instant the black hole turns into a tall ,lanky man that looked like he had been dipped in oil. He starts to chase after me, threatening to take the one thing that I know is mine and mine alone, my life. My breathing is erratic, my lungs burning from the constant presence of cold air  within them, and my legs going numb from running for hours on end with only a few moments rest. I know I won’t be able to run for long and I have already tried hiding, but he always finds me. He is always lurking in the shadows. He is always there, an ever constant factor in my ever flowing daily life. I have tried to escape him, but the more I run the closer he gets. I can feel his cold, steel-like fingers catch my arm mid-swing and drag me into him, into the heart of the darkness that I have so desperately avoided. I can feel his fingers branching out toward my temple and my spine forcing me to settle into the icy, tundra of the shadows around me. Suddenly the darkness morphs into a dark room and I am strapped into a chair in the shape of a hand; its fingers like the branches of a tree that curve and split forming needle-like points that reach towards me . Slowly I begin to feel the tips of the needle-like fingers sink into me, morphing against the bone, oozing under my skin and solidifying there like molten lava upon the earth’s surface. My flesh reddens and cries out with inflammation as the chair invades my nervous system. My body is a shuttering mess almost as if to say “Device has been detected” and the chair responding by uploading its entire hard drive in my brain. My eyes snap open as my back arches from the sudden shock that that tore through my body and the room bursts into color: greens, reds, yellows all a glow as though Salvador Dali has given his dreams to me. Contorted faces and lost bodies fell into the vision as the room spun. “You are mine” hissed a dark voice in my ear and “Don’t you forget it” it continued resonating from all around me. Until an unbearable, shock ran through my body tearing flesh from muscle and muscle from bone. I scream in pure agony wishing desperately for it to stop, if only for him to shoot me and put me out of my misery. But I know that would be too merciful. Instead he allows my body to heal itself causing even more pain as tendons and ligaments reform and sew themselves back together and reattaching to my crispy reforming muscles and bones. The pain of healing is almost as bad as the shock itself. I feel as if someone is clumsily putting me back together, nailing one knee joint in place, screwing in elbows and braiding muscles at an excruciatingly slow pace. Just as the pain begins to numb I am shocked again and forced to relive the process without any reprieve. I hear someone screaming, maybe it’s a memory, maybe it’s me. I’m the one whose screams reach out to deaf ears. I’m still screaming…the pain….the pain won’t...

“AAAAAHHHHH” I scream as I sit up in my bed. “Fuck” I whisper, my throat raw. “I keep having the same dream over and over again.” I say looking down at my shaking hands as I force myself to make a fist, trying to convince myself that it was just a dream and that my hand is still intact. “Grrrrrr” my stomach growls, letting me know that it has been too empty for far too long. I can feel it starting to contract as it searches for food that is not there. I slide out of my bed carefully looking out for nails and rat crap that litters my floor, although I don’t really have much to worry about considering I always sleep fully dressed. But sleeping that way in the underworld is not really that uncommon, considering anything can happen while you are asleep. I mean would you really want to end up running outside in your underwear if some kids decided to play arsonist using your place or getting caught by the Teridien police while you are struggling with a frilly nightgown? No, I think not. It’s just easier to sleep in what little clothing you have and keep moving. It wasn’t until I stood completely upright did I notice how dark my room is, just like in my dream there was no beginning and no end. I could feel the cold fingers of the shadows caressing my skin, calling to me as if I were one of its lost children. My heart began to race at the very thought of being torn to pieces over and over again by an unknown tormentor. Fear coursing through my veins like ice water in a stream, totally, completely and endlessly flowing through me. The fear of being tortured and used as if I was some type of prisoner of war making me want to run to the nearest source of light.

I know this type of fear very well. It’s the fear of not having a choice of not having the freedom to have a real life and to be placed back in a lab and confine between two walls as if I was his pet. I refuse to go back there again, ever. I walk over to my old, decrepit dresser and light my snap-wick candle.  Here, in the underworld we don't have accessible power. Most people down here have candles or maybe even a flash light they found left behind in an old world building, but those only last so long since batteries haven't been made in almost one hundred years.  I grab the candle and walk over to my bathroom. The smell of rust and burnt flesh assaulted my nose; along with the ever familiar smell of blood.  Some of the blood I knew was mine, sometimes after nightmares or when ghosts come through this area I end up throwing up clots of blood. When I say ghosts I am not talking about paranormal spirits of dead people, but people whose spirits are broken and have given up on life. They have lived in hell for so long that they just give up and wallow in their sorrows and suffering. Their emotions permeate through their skin and even from twenty-five miles away their memories over power me and send me into nauseous, bloody mess. Ghosts come to this part of the quadrant to die. They know that the center of what used to be a town is still highly radioactive and that a couple of days there will kill them.  The memories of ghosts are always the worst, they are always so gruesome and so painful that sometimes I black out and wake up nearly choking on my own blood. As for the shadows imprinted on my walls, those are all that is left of the people who used to live in the apartment when the atomic bombs descended. Why do I live in one of the 12 cities bomb during the Terror? Trust me it’s not a death wish, actually the exact opposite. Drones can’t track anyone in the presence of radioactivity. Somehow it messes with their signal, but who cares how that works? What’s important is that He can’t find me and I live in relative peace minus when a random ghost shows up.

                                I glance up at the mirror in front of me. The candle providing a radial source of light in the pitch black room allowing me to catch my own eyes, it was then that I noticed how dark, how empty and how cold they really were. My light brown skin lacking the radiance of life it once had and my green eyes were nothing but still pools of color. My reflection reminding me of the eyes of a ghost, I try to force myself to smile but when I look at the mirror again I end up with is a malicious smirk and a calculating stare. I back away from the mirror startled by my almost sadistic reflection.

“I am not that person” I whisper to myself as I bracing my hands on either side of the sink, my candle still burning brightly. I take a deep breath and look back at the mirror only to see my original empty expression plastered to my face. I give a heavy sigh, continuing to brush my teeth and wash my face.  I know my life is much like this room. It is hidden away from the world, its dark, and it is marked with violence. Everyone in my life or involved with me has died or wished they could, some may have even wished to take the place of the shadows on my walls; there for me consistently but too far gone to be of any used to me or anyone else. I don’t mind being alone, but I fear that without Teridien I would lose touch with every other emotion but pain and anger. I don’t want to be any more of a monster than I already am. I don’t want to lose myself to my demons, to be swallowed up by the darkness that chases behind me in my dreams. I hate having to steal the joy of others in order to even come close to feeling something, to loving something. I just want to feel human.

“Grrr” growled my stomach again reminding me that I still have to eat and take my immunol. I grab my candle and rush to my closet. I set the candle on my nightstand and grab an already preset outfit. The outfit turned out to be a pair of panote jeans and a black, panote shirt with gray circles on it in a swirl pattern. Panote is a type of fabric that is self-cleaning and self-repairing, convenient right? I mean you don’t have to wash it and you don’t have to sew it back together, which is absolutely perfect for someone like me. I throw on my clothes and rush downstairs. I am already late for my classes at the Academy which start in the next forty-five minutes. I sprint toward the desk that I keep all of food, medicine and school work in. Sitting on top of the desk is my usual breakfast, a meal block, which is basically a cube of a gelatinous substance that consists of protein, starch, and vitamins A-D; that is designed to sate hunger for most of the day. Meal blocks aren’t the most nutritious thing to have in the world but it helps to sustain me for a while especially since I can’t be in the city for too long buying food and ways to preserve it. As you know in the underworld a continuous source of power is just not available therefore microwaves and refrigerators are completely out of the question. Hence why I get meal blocks they are damn near free, accessible and don’t need any appliances in order to be eatable.  I grab a meal block from a re-sealable vacuum packed bag that looked like it was made from aluminum, with it its reflective metallic outside, and threw the block into my mouth as I searched for my immunol. I opened the top draw of my desk, which is where I usually put it, to find that the bottle was missing. No big deal right? Let me just move over this sheet of paper or look under that tablet and I will find it. But of course because I am late the fucking immunol doesn’t want to be where it is supposed to be. I NEED to find that medicine.

“If I don’t then I am so screwed” I scream in my mind as I ripped open each draw and dug through them looking for my meds. “Fuck, where could I have-Damn it” I curse silently to myself as I spy the vial of immunol and the applicator sitting on the sink in the bathroom less than ten feet away from me. I bound across the room, into the bathroom and snatch up the immunol in a silent victory. The immunol is already in the applicator, I must have realized that I would be late last night and prepared it before I went to sleep.

I gave a heavy sigh as I relaxed knowing that I had it in my possession. Immunol is a black market drug that introduces blue blood nano-antibodies to the users blood stream. The liquid is a vibrant purple color that swishes thickly in the small vial, but it is the one substance in the world that makes the difference between poverty and grandiose paychecks, pain and pleasure, life and death. This liquid is the only thing that draws the line between blue bloods and plantions. Blue Bloods are individuals that are damn near impervious to any disease for the simple fact that when they are born the government injects them with nano-antibodies unique to their DNA, that bonds with the cells and creates “perfect genes”, genes that don’t develop mutations of any kind, which prevents the manifestation of cancers and birth defects. The nano-antibodies work almost like a virus in the beginning, finding a host cell, attaching to it dispersing its own version of our genes and deleting any abnormalities.  After all that they begin to act like normal antibodies fighting off any infections only faster and more efficiently than our immune systems. Before the nano-antibodies people would still have the symptoms of being sick even if their immune system was working. Now, if you have nano-antibodies, you feel completely healthy all the time. I slowly place the needle of the applicator into one of the larger veins in my forearm. I squeezed the trigger of the applicator dispensing the immunol into my blood stream. Unfortunately if you don’t receive nano-antibodies before your first birthday, they won’t take to you or your DNA.

It is this fatal flaw that causes such a division between Blue Bloods and Plantions. If you didn’t have the money to afford the proper health care then you were not given the nano-antibodies; hence why the underworld was born. Nobody wanted disease carrying bastards around their pristine, lavish abodes so they made it absolutely impossible for anyone without nano-antibodies to work, play or function in the city. In order to enter any building or buy anything (legally) you have to walk through a Nano-Antibody Sensor commonly known as NAS. The sensors basically register your wavelength and frequency. Apparently the nanobots in your blood stream create and certain wavelength that the machine is designed to detect; which brings me to the reason I have to inject myself with this shit at least once a month.   I mentioned how if you don’t get nano-antibodies before your first birthday then they wouldn’t take to you well. By won’t take to you well I meant not at all, some scientist think that this is because our immune systems are “fully loaded” by then and is completely aware of what is and is not a part of the body by then; others think that the antibodies are a sort of Darwinian concept in which only a genetically evolved body can process them enough to used them continuously.

I for one don’t give a damn one way or another I just need to keep my head down and make it through the Academy. I grab my bike and wheel it outside of my apartment. My eyes shifting around almost robotically as I search for anyone who might see me. You are probably asking yourself why I have to physically look for someone if I can usually sense them? Well in all actuality I don’t really know the answer to that question. I thought that maybe I could only sense strong emotions like anger, hate, extreme happiness or pain; but I find that sometimes I pick up on the most benign, trivial things such as a child’s delight at receiving a toy or an old woman’s relief at getting off from work early. At this thought I jump on my bike and zoom through the less traveled alley ways in an attempt not to be spotted heading to Terridien.  You see it is illegal to cross between the two worlds without a pardon or an “advantageous” social standing, also called a Magistrate, that allowed you passage in order to help the neanderthalic squatters of the underworld become good lower class citizens. And unfortunately I qualify for neither one of those Oh-So-Glorified occasions. I ride hard and fast as I started to feel my usual nauseousness as I approached a larger population of underworlders.  The screams pound against my skull, causing my fingers to curl tighter around the throttle. I could feel the taste of blood pooling at the back of my throat as visions of people retching upon the ground covering their mouths with one hand and stomach with other only to look up and reveal their blood stained lips and hands. I would feel bad for them, but there are so many that have suffered more and will suffer more than those who will die a quick death. I continue on my journey trying to block out any other visions or images that would distract me from my goal of not arriving to class any later than I already would.

After riding in the shadows for twenty minutes and sneaking past the security I arrived at the Academy with ten minutes to spare. To say that I was impressed with myself would be an understatement, I was down right giddy!

“Maybe today would be a good day” I thought as I entered my first class of the day “Ooor maybe not” I growled to myself as I realized that some guy was sitting in MY seat!

“Hey,” I said casually tapping him on the shoulder “I’m going to need you to move” I say waiting on him to shift to another seat. That is until he looked up and his dark brown eyes connected with my green ones. They almost looked like they belonged to a toddler open and honest without any walls of regret or fear, but while I was lost in thought the boy said something that I completely missed, but I’m going to play it off so that’s no big deal. “Just move” I say trying to give him some time to leave.

“Why should I?” He asked his smooth baritone voice gliding over each syllable as a brilliant fire of defiance danced behind his eyes.

“Because-wait you’re the guy from yesterday!”

“What? Because I’m the guy from yesterday? What does that have to do with anything?”

“No, you are the one that bumped into me yesterday and now you are sitting in my seat. What the hell is going on?” I hissed glaring at him fully intent on finding out his intentions and making him move.

“Look, I don’t know who you are. Or why you are so angry about a seat, all I did was sit down.”

“Well now you can sit somewhere else.”

“But this has such a lovely view of the room.” he smirked knowingly

“Move your ass.” I growl curtly in an effort to intimidate him

“I don’t take commands from little girls” he said his voice suddenly becoming cold and steely as his eyes met mine is a silent challenge.

“Glad I’m not a little girl. “ I retorted a smirk forming on my face as he began to pack up his things, but then he stood up and I realized how tall he was. He towered over me by at least a foot. Suddenly his face was inches from mine before he silently leaned over and whispered into my ear “Good” a chill ran through my body as the warm air from his mouth brushed against the out lobe of my ear almost incasing it with warmth. Once he moved away from me I noticed that Danielle was standing at the entrance glaring at me. “Aaaaannnndd my day just went to hell”.

“Care to tell me why you insist on acting like you don’t know him?” growled Danielle

“Because I don’t know him; he was just some guy sitting in my seat.” I replied nonchalantly.

“Bullshit,you looked pretty cozy to me! Have you forgotten that I know you secret Over-“

“And I know yours, Hyrison” I whispered fiercely “I know what we agreed on and I have kept my part of the bargain. So unless you want dear old Dad and the rest of this Academy to know about Master Maurice I suggest you shut up and sit down.”

“….”

“That’s what I thought” I growled as a glanced up at her frozen figure, her eyes stood as wide as saucers before she finally got a grip and quietly sat down across the room  right in front of the guy that was sitting in my seat.

“Good Morning class.” said Professor Malc dressed in a white, long sleeve collared shirt, slacks and galaxy vest, which is basically a vest with a moving star pattern on it. “Today we are going to cover the last half of the 21st Century as well as the Terror. First off can anyone tell me the preliminary causes of the Terror?”

“Most people believe it was one of the results of the war on terrorism in the sense that after that war, smaller countries believed that they were going to be targeted by the larger empires for the little resources they had. So in order to protect themselves they created the League of Common Defense. The League eventually led to the creation of teleportation and grenade sized atomic bombs” said a girl two rows in front of me.

“Good job Cynthia, does anyone else have anything to add”

“Others think that the Terror started because of the America-Chinese conflict, in which the two nations prevented each other from receiving important goods, which left them unable to process any raw materials from the smaller nations, which then led to the LCD” said Trey

“So we all agree that the formation of the League of Common Defense, led to The Terror?” asked Professor Malc. The room was silent as some people nodded their heads in agreement.

“What about the drones that the American and Chinese governments used to scout for resources and to bomb the importing vessels.” Professor Malc said locking eyes with the me.

“They did what they had to do to support their nation!” replied someone in the middle of the room. I could feel the growing skepticism towards Professor Malc, short bursts of  numbness going through my extremities as the conversation became more intense.

“But they harmed innocent people and created chaos within the other nations as well as destroyed their economy by taking what they needed and not supplying the appropriate funds for those resources left the small nations without any money and few resources to trade.” commented Professor Malc instigating more discussion among the class. “But back to the League of Common Defense, where do you think they found the money to develop the technology needed to bomb the powerhouse nations?”

“I think they used what was left of the combined countries’ budgets and resources” said Cynthia

“Maybe they didn’t need money at all. Maybe they already had the resources and the scientists to create it already.” said another classmate

“Or America and China were funding them in an attempt to dominate the remaining empires.” proposed Professor Malc causing the class to go completely silent as they processed his appalling idea of our nation perpetuating such a horrible event as The Terror.

“How would that have worked? I mean all of the 8 cities that were bombed by the LCD were either located in China or America, you know New York, Chicago, Atlanta and Detroit in America and Beijing, Chengdu, Shanghai and Guangzhou in China.” said Thrax in the front row of the room, his small round rim glasses gleaming as they slide down towards the middle of his nose.

“Well think about where the other four bombs landed that was sent by China and America.” said Professor Malc leaving us to come up with the answered to his implied question.

“Conakry, Guinea; Agadez and Arlit, Niger; and Koidu Town, Sierra Leon” provided Professor Malc once it was obvious that no one knew that answer to his question.

“Oh yea” began the guy who was sitting in my seat earlier. “ Guinea had vast natural resources and was capitalizing on mining and exporting these resources, creating economic growth not to mention the change in political environment had drawn more attention to the nation creating foreign investment and  larger economy.  The same could be said for Sierra Leon including their diamond yield. Niger had a large uranium deposits and oil reserves that both the United States and China were buying from there prior to the bombings.”

“Very Good Mr….”

“Langston, Langston Hill”

“Ah so you are the late Senator Hill’s son. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you know your geological, political history.” said Professor Malc almost condescendingly “But Mr. Hill is completely right. The cities that were destroyed were major cities in major up and coming nations that possessed resources that China and America needed to produce more products and become more successful economically and militarily.

“Couldn’t you say that the LCD used its resources for the same reason? I mean if the powerhouse nations were out of the way. Those countries could continue to grow and take the place of the fallen empires.” contested Thrax his eyes glaring at Professor Malc. I could feel Thrax’s growing disdain for Professor Malc as the discussion continued. He objected to all of Malc’s ideas and his mind was running through almost every class and text book he had devoured and digested. I could feel myself somehow subconsciously searching for information that laid latent in Thrax’s mind.

“I suppose so, but why then would the LCD continue to consist of only small countries, with stable borders instead of branching out. If they had the resources to bomb super powers surely they could have expanded their borders”  opposed Professor Malc

“Maybe because they resorted to biological warfare, or at least tried too” I added somewhat enthralled by the way the discussion was progressing.

“That biological warfare almost destroyed them entirely” Langston said making eye contact with me, almost daring me to challenge him.

“That is exactly my point. Why would someone who has the resources to create and contain grenade sized atomic bombs not have the resources or know how to process and contain biological weapons? That just doesn’t sound right to me.” I responded accepting Langston’s non-verbal challenge.

“What if they released the biological weapons into their own countries in order to draw suspicion away from themselves? Then they used people who were immigrating to our country as ticking time bombs to destroy us from the inside out. What they didn’t count on was the nano-antibodies being discovered.”

“And that just manifested itself right on time didn’t it?” questioned Professor Malc.

“I don’t believe so Professor, by the time the antibodies came out America was $2 away from being a third world country. Hardly anyone had power and without electricity most people couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. All the cars were electric as well as all the doors. And since our major economic centers were destroyed by bombs we had no way to support or govern ourselves as a nation, causing our population under the poverty line to sky rocket.” I said locking eyes with Langston to see if he had any disagreements. BRRRRRRRRIIIINNNNG! went the bell that signified the end of class. I saw Langston release a relieved sigh. “Saved by the bell” I thought smugly.

“Well class I think that was a great discussion for those that read the material. Mr. Kane, Ms. Evans and Mr. Hill thank you for your participation in today’s discussion, I will be sure to give all three of you extra marks” said Professor Malc as we proceeded to pack up our stuff.  I grabbed my pen tablet, which was recording the discussion for me, slid it into my pocket and headed for the door that is until a toned chest covered by a thin layer of a gray, panote muscle shirt blocked my path.  I wasn’t picking up any emotions from him whoever he was which was strange considering almost every male in this school is usually panting from the fire created by the lust and anger they feel on a constant basis. I glance up, out of curiosity, only to lock eyes with the same chocolate orbs and almond colored skin from earlier this morning.

“Why are you always preventing progress?” I asked slightly annoyed by his constant presence.

“Maybe it’s just one of my hobbies?” he answered his face almost stony but his eyes twinkled with hidden mirth. He was enjoying this.

“Well find another one. I don’t play games with little boys” I said snidely throwing his insult back at him.

“Good, how about a grown man?” he asked stepping even closer to me to the point where I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Let me know when you find one” I said going around him. I could sense the spark of lust he had right then. He was completely turned on. I could feel the hot, stickiness of steam surround me as Langston appears in my mind completely naked, though his bottom half can barely be seen through the thickness of the steam, his almond brown skin glistening as water drips down bare muscle. His sharp masculine face was facing the ceiling, his mouth open in an moan  as he leaned one hand on the wall in front of him and the other was much lower…”Oh My God “ I thought to myself instantly shutting his emotions out as I continued to walk to my next class.

                Ironically after my History class is Politics. I mean as far as I am concerned, at the Academy politics is history and history is politics both are important to becoming a good military leader. At least that’s what they want you to think we all know that the politics class is really a way of accessing our ability to become politicians. If you can pass Politics with high marks they will make you attend Ambassador Academy, the Ambassador Academy basically produces the nations President, Senator, Magistrates and so on. Unlike in the olden days when anyone could run for political offices now they have made Ambassador Education mandatory. That class went along uneventfully including the usual bouts of random memories.

                But apparently my day was not meant to stay that way. As soon as I walked into my Military Collaborative Exercise class, I saw Langston standing in the gymnasium already dressed in his white t-shirt and gray jogging pants that the guys wear. As soon as I walked into the room I could feel his eyes following me as if to burn holes into the back of my head. I continued to walk to the girl’s locker room all the while willing myself not to run, for fear that I would give him so sick sense of satisfaction. When I came out of the locker room I was dress in the standard white t-shirt and gray shorts the girls wear.

“Looks like you aren’t a little girl.” said a familiar baritone voice.

“Could you possibly stop drooling, on me?” I growled

“As you wish” Langston said bowing at the waist “ But only if you do me the honor of eating lunch with you this afternoon” he finished extending his hand out to me in a formal fashion. Calmness and sincerity flowed off of him in waves as if he truly was the Lancelot to my Guinevere. Well more like the Westley to my Buttercup either way it was eerie not have to constantly be on guard in his presence. He has no extreme emotions, he is completely balanced.

“You are barking up the wrong tree.” I said coldly as I head for the bleachers.

Whoooooooooot went the Sergeants whistle when he was ready for the guys to line up for sparring. The Sergeant was a short, stocky man with bulging muscles and a square head. His blonde hair was barely visible due to his military buzz cut and his voice was loud and raspy as many upper level officer’s voices seem to be.

“Alright troops line up! The man to your right will be your sparring partner. Hurry up and get into the sparring arenas!” he yelled pointing to the eight blue luminescent circles in the floor. The sparring arenas are basically small circular boxing rings that keep the fighters and the fight within a circle that has a radius of about thirty feet. After the fighters have entered the ring a force field of energy is used to contain the fight until the end of the thirty minutes are up.

I watched as Langston stepped into the ring with Ivan Slovick, a Serbian transfer with a tall, muscular build that probably had a mental capacity smaller than the bleachers I’m sitting on right now; but he has herculean strength, a thirst for blood and gore and I personally  think he grew up with a mallet in his hand.  Langston’s weapon of choice looks to be a Bo, a six foot long staff. He twirls the Bo in front him and gets into ready position, his eyes ice over and his face become unreadable even to me which is beginning to become a bit disturbing.

                Ivan charges toward him his mallet raised high in the air ready to come down on what seems to be a frozen Langston. Then in the blink of an eye, Langston sunk low to the ground, kicked Ivan’s feet out from under him and used his staff to slam the giant of a man into the ground. Ivan picks himself of the ground and charges at Langston once again only this time he managed to grab a hold of Langston’s shirt but as soon as he did that I began to sense a heavy wave of anger pulse through the room almost as if it was everywhere and nowhere at once. Ivan’s image started to fade into that of a light skinned man with an almost yellow complexion holding a small boy by the front of his shirt.

“You will do it again! And do it right! What is the capital of Swango?”

“Angshla” whimpered the small boy with chocolate covered eyes.

“Who wrote Terridiens constitution?”

“ummmm…” the boy stuttered tears instantly forming as his eyes closed bracing for what he knew would be next.

“Peter Sanders!Peter Sanders! You moronic little bastard! There is no way a son of mine can be this stupid!” the man yelled throwing the little boy on the floor and repeated kicking him. The boy cried and I could feel each kick as deep purple bruises formed on his ribs.

The scene phases back into the current reality just as Ivan said “You will learn to forfeit any fight will me!”

I could feel the anger welling up in Langston’s chest, his once cold eyes shine with the will to live, the fire of freedom burning behind his chocolate orbs he flipped onto Ivan’s massive arm, kicked him in the face and smashed the Bo down on Ivan’s stomach knocking the wind out of him. Langston was seething, he was scared and he was teeming with anger I didn’t even know he had. It is almost like he is my mirror image. In times that I would think to die, he fights to live, where I can hardly control myself he seems to hid everything there is ,even his feelings. Maybe there is more to this pretty boy than what I first thought. I glanced a Langston once more to see his strained expression turn into a playful smirk as soon as my eyes caught his. Much more.